Page 40 of Saddles

Funny, I’m almost more interested in hearing about his pain than wanting to dwell on my own.

Should I push him?

I better not, I’m still a stranger.

But what could be so bad that the big tough ol’ cowboy won’t share?

“That’s right, there were two,” Ford says in the distance, rousing me from a thankfully dreamless night.

His gray eyes meet mine as he nods against the phone.

“Yep, I think they’re down at least one sled. No, I’m not sure if they have more or a way to get here.” He cups his hand over the receiver.

“Mornin’, frosty. Do you remember if there was a car or any other vehicle up there?” His lips thin and he tilts his head. “Wade’s trying to send a team up to look and wanted to know if there’s a chance they could have gotten away.”

Blinking away the sleep, my mind races to the filthy cabin I escaped from.

Fuck, I don’t want to think about it. But I want those assholes to get caught.

Did they have anything else?

Everything was a blur when I was rushing to leave.

I pick at the skin on the edge of my thumb. Why can’t I remember?

Tentatively, I shake my head.

“She doesn’t think there’s another rig.” His brow furrows when he looks at me, then he turns away. “She’s done answered that. There’ll be time later for that shit,” he growls, then hangs up.

When he glances back, one corner of his lips turn up. “Sorry. Crappy way to wake up. I got coffee made.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t had any in forever.” I push out of the warm covers into the chill of the room. “Ford, did you sleep okay?” My feet are freezing on the bare wood, and I find myself hopping back onto the mattress.

“Yup.” He pulls the kettle off the stove and pours it into the top of his french press.

I didn’t expect that. “Fancy.” But holy shit does it taste good.

“I ain’t picky about most stuff, except coffee.” He smiles over the rim of his cup, the little crow’s feet on the corners of his pale gray eyes deepen.

His dark hair covers them when he looks down, lowering his mug.

“Lucky me.” I take another long swallow, letting the cozy heat move into me one sip at a time.

“How’s that?” He tilts his head watching me, his jaw clenches where the silver whiskers sit near his ear.

It’s harder not to appreciate him as a whole. “Anyone else wouldn’t have been so nice to me.”

“Hmm. Well, anyone else is a fool.” He leans forward, topping off my almost empty drink.

His words hit deeper than I expected, making me stare down at my fresh cup intently.

“The wind’s died down some. I’m gonna go get wood and check on the horse.”

“What can I do to help?” I feel like a leech just sitting here.

He shakes his head and pulls his heavy Carhartt over his flannel. “Stay here and rest. I got it.”

I’m not sure why that rubs me the wrong way.

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